


Aval'var, it means - our journey

by Ammocharis



Series: Saga of the Avvar-Daughter [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avvar, Avvar Culture and Customs, Avvar Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Avvar Pantheon, Culture Shock, Dreamers (Dragon Age), F/M, Gen, Major canon divergence, Spirits, Worldbuilding, hold beast
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:28:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29427420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ammocharis/pseuds/Ammocharis
Summary: Vatna, daughter of Einar and Selke, left her hold on the first day of winter. Before she knew it, the solstice arrived, and she strayed the furthest from home she's ever been. The days passed and the snow began to thaw as the Sky Watcher's apprentice dwelled in the Lowlands, doing everything in her power to fix the Lady's Veil.Luckily, she wasn't alone.
Relationships: Avvar/Avvar (Dragon Age), Cole & Inquisitor (Dragon Age), Female Inquisitor (Dragon Age)/Original Male Character(s)
Series: Saga of the Avvar-Daughter [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972486
Kudos: 1





	1. Winter Solstice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition's forces are about to reach Therinfal Redoubt. Two Avvar people make hasty preparations for the winter solstice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of the story of my Avvar Inquisitor, you can find the first part here: [Watch the Skies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19886404/chapters/47100379).

Her thighs were completely sore from the whole day of riding. The journey to Therinfal Redoubt proved challenging, even though they weren't travelling on foot. Honestly, she would’ve preferred that, if only there was time. Alas, they had no luxury of letting the grass grow under their feet. Whatever was going on with the rebel mages, it couldn’t be good, she just didn’t know if the threat in Redcliffe was as big as the Templars being led by a demon in disguise.

The camp had been set up for the night so at last she could stretch out her legs properly. She pressed the heel of her hand against the side of her leg in an attempt to release the tension that piled up in her muscles, which made them feel more like a series of knots than human flesh.

“Wait.” Vatna frowned, hit by the realization that she hadn’t been keeping track of days passing while on the road. 

As of late, her mind was completely occupied by thoughts of imminent conflict. She was about to march into a Templar fortress, chock full of warriors trained specifically to subdue mages, find a way to walk past them or force her way through, and then goad the demon hiding in their leader to show its true nature. Even though, it was no excuse to lose sight of the events that were happening right above her head. She turned her eyes skyward. 

“Is it the solstice tomorrow?” The question left her mouth before she was able to stop her tongue.  _ Fool,  _ she groaned inwardly.

“Yeah,” Eir confirmed, watching her from over his bowl. “Did you forget?”

“No!” she protested and moved over to pick up her share of food. 

She stuffed a spoonful of the stew into her mouth. For the time being, it would ensure she stayed quiet and not embarrassed herself any further.

The question remained. She used to see a clear path in front of her. Vatna, daughter of Einar and Selke, was supposed to become the next Sky Watcher of Two Falcon Hold. She had a role to fulfil, one she looked forward to. She had a mentor who was teaching her everything she should know to become his successor. Next summer, she was going to wear an augur’s mask for the first time and complete her tattoos.

Now she couldn’t even tell when or if she would return to her home. The only thing that mattered was the green mark in her hand. Its sickly glow obscured the rest of the path. At times, it was hard to see the Lady’s light. A Sky Watcher’s apprentice  _ cannot _ forget about the Winter Solstice. Could she even call herself that anymore? Perhaps becoming an envoy of the Lady of the Skies hadn’t actually appeared in the tangled web of her fate.

Each day, she was getting further and further away from the Frostbacks. The peaks glazed in ice hid below the horizon many days ago. She could only be grateful that the connection between her and the Mountains hadn’t been severed when she caught the Orb. Glancing up into the sky, she touched the fire-staff resting at her side and reached towards the other end of the rope.

_ “Why didn’t you remind me it was solstice tomorrow?” _ she asked Himnar once he arrived.

_ “You didn’t have to be reminded,” _ the hold-beast replied.

_ “But I almost forgot about it,”  _ she pointed out.  _ “What if I woke up the next morning, completely unaware that it’s the shortest day of the year?” _

_ “Yet you didn’t forget,”  _ her teacher said with the same unwavering calmness.  _ “You noticed the pattern in the sky yourself.” _

_ “Should I even perform the rites?”  _ Vatna wondered, still doubting her status as the Sky Watcher’s apprentice. Winter solstice ceremony was one of the most important events of the year. The rituals should be completed by the augurs and their chosen students. All three chief gods ought to be appeased, as well as the multitude of local spirits. The following night would be the longest, which meant the Veil at its thinnest. As if it wasn’t weakened already. At night, denizens of the Land of Dreams would always press more strongly on the barrier between the worlds. The gods who had grown and lived with the Hold were supposed to protect the tribe against their less benevolent kin. Lowlanders practised a wildly different approach of defence against demons.  _ What might happen if they push at the spots where the weft is fraying? _

_ “If you won’t then no one else will.”  _ Himnar’s voice brought her back.

_ “Of course.”  _ She sighed, placing down her empty bowl. Lowlanders were buzzing around her but she barely registered their movements. Everyone was getting ready to rest their weary heads before resuming the arduous journey. In two days, they were going to reach Therinfal Redoubt. Vatna wasn’t sure if she’d be able to let her mind unwind even for a moment.

Vatna grabbed her bedroll and headed towards the tent she shared with Cassandra and Lysette. She didn’t go far before she felt a hand on her shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.

“Hey,” Eir said. “Everything’s alright?”

“Sure,” she replied, not turning her head in his direction. She kept staring straight ahead, looking but not really seeing what was going on in the camp. “I’m just tired. I’m gonna get some rest,” she declared. Despite this, Eir’s palm stayed on her shoulder. It wasn’t a strong grip, she could easily wriggle out. Yet she remained motionless.

“Doesn’t look like you’re getting much of that,” he noted, not with judgement or pity but as a simple statement of a fact.

She looked at his hand instead of his face. He seemed to be willing to wait with his arm outstretched in an uncomfortable position until she shook it off herself. For a reason unknown even to her, she preferred not to escape from this predicament. And so they found themselves at an impasse.

“Well, I don’t have the luxury of dozing off into a slumber and forgetting all about the world,” Vatna responded flatly. The plane of existence hidden behind the Veil screamed for her attention as loudly if not more so than the Waking World. That’s how it always was. Whenever the physical dimension started breaking, its mirror would show the signs of fracture as well. Almost a decade elapsed since the plague of darkness ravaged both lands and yet the memories were still fresh in her mind. She could see parallels between the past and present in her visions but there were enough differences that she would never confuse them, not if a thousand winters passed. Each disaster was horrible in its own right, just that she found herself in the dead center of the current one.

“Do you know how long you’ll be able to go on like this?” Eir asked.

“As long as it’s needed,” she said. Did he expect any other answer from her? She supposed not. They knew each other for only a few moons and yet he was often able to see through her. It was both annoying and comforting. “If you want to suggest I cook up a potion to keep myself from dreaming, which you know very well I can’t afford to do right now, then save your breath. I have matters to take care of.” 

She paused. The harshness in her words came out more pronounced than she wished to. She tried to remedy that. 

“Sleep well.”  _ For both of us. _

She slipped out from underneath his hold, facing almost no resistance. Soon, she was lying on her bedroll, wrapped tightly in the wool blankets as a guard from the nightly chill. She even spent some of her magic to bring more warmth into the tent, which she rarely felt the need to do. Her body would rest, allowing the soreness in her muscles to subside, but her mind would continue to toil away.

~o~

The morning took its sweet time to arrive, like a sluggish apprentice coming late to their mentor for a dreaded lesson. Except no one could yell at the sun for rising with such tardiness. Mortals may only hope that the decline in sun’s power won’t continue until there’s nothing to illuminate the land, like in the beginning of time. No living creature had a chance to survive in that darkness, not even the dwarves. Without the sun, the entire world would freeze over, all the oceans, seas, lakes, and underground rivers too.

Vatna emerged from the shelter early to commemorate the shortest day of the year. She decided to perform the rites on her own. Whatever she managed to put together, it would be no more than a bare skeleton of the ceremony that was going to take place in the Holds. Still, she felt it was necessary. 

She adjusted the grip on the fire-staff. She may have not made the proper arrangements to hold all the rituals but she had the Lady’s gift and one of her favoured beasts at her side. Honouring the goddess of the sky, which was always the first thing to do on the day of the winter solstice, shouldn’t be that hard. The rest would come naturally, she hoped.

Still, the lack of reprieve as she spent another night investigating what was troubling the local gods, had taken its toll on her. She rubbed her eyelids and suppressed a yawn. Then she noticed that someone was already waiting for her outside.

“Morning,” Eir greeted her. He rose from his feet and waited for Vatna to approach him.

“Just ‘morning’?“ she asked tentatively as she stepped closer. The cold air stung her in the cheeks. She looked around the camp, spotting only a few Lowlanders who had awoken as early as them. She exchanged nods with Harding and Charter who passed by.

“Some say it’s better not praise the day before the sunset,” Eir replied. “But I’m willing to make an exception if you do me a favour.”

Vatna fastened the staff to its holster and crossed her arms. “What kind of favour?”

“Invite me to the winter solstice.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“There’s not much to celebrate,” she said with a slight shrug. “I’m going to complete the rite to appease the gods in its barest form. There won’t be a feast or exchange of gifts.”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem for you to invite me?” he countered.

“No,” Vatna admitted. “But I have to gather the ingredients first.”

“No need to. I already took care of that.” Eir pointed at a basket he had brought, prompting her to peek inside.

“I see you organized a raid against the requisition officers.” A corner of her lip lifted and the pathfinder responded in kind.

“I just borrowed some supplies,” he explained.

Vatna quickly examined the contents of the basket, just to make sure all the necessary elements were there. She noticed a clay pot filled with tallow, a small bag of grain, and another container full of white powder, which she guessed could be used to make limewash.

“Without the intention of returning them, I hope?” She let her smile grow.

He reciprocated with a toothy grin. “I thought that’s how borrowing things works?”

She couldn’t hold the laughter inside even if she tried.

“What about the offering to Hakkon?” she inquired once she calmed down.

“I guess the Lord of Winter will have to be satisfied with a hare,” Eir informed her. “A few got caught in the snares. We can borrow one too.”

“Very well,” she declared, still smiling a bit. “We may begin.”

“Ah, you forgot something.” Eir wagged his finger at her, snatching the basket away from her.

“What?” She frowned and reached for the ingredients but the pathfinder was faster. He had a few good inches of advantage over her.

“The favour,” he reminded Vatna.

“If you insist.” She rolled her eyes. “Eurwyn Ar Eluned O Ramhold, I invite you to celebrate the winter solstice with me.”

“Invitation accepted. Now let’s go,” he said as he handed her the basket.

~o~

The first ritual was completed swiftly - as tradition dictated, the offering comprised of white grain mixed with fat, presented before the messengers of the Lady. The birds who remained in the winter lands feasted on it with eagerness and then they carried their newfound strength into the sky. Their wings cut through the cold winds with ease.

_ Lady of the Skies, urge the Sun to turn back. _

Next in line was the gift to Korth. To honour the Mountain-Father and his domain, the cliffs could be adorned with paint. Usually, the scene depicted an event from one of the many legends about Korth, in plenty of colours granted by the earth and stone. This time, the offering had to be limited to a few simple symbols and a single shade of white.

_ Korth the Mountain-Father, tell the Stone to keep steady. _

Last but not least, a sacrifice ought to be laid before Hakkon, as a plea to convince him to restrain the winter within its boundaries. The season of ice had its place and time. Once its end neared, Hakkon were to draw his breath back into his lungs and hold it there until next winter. In a few weeks, the bone-rattling cold was supposed to retreat into the highest peaks. Their offering was a humble hare, but the Lord of Steel and Ice understood what war meant.

_ Hakkon Wintersbreath, bid the Frost to go away. _

~o~

Another day passed. Therinfal Redoubt was now within view. Its looming shape made Vatna’s stomach churn. The castle appeared well-fortified and massive, big enough to house hundreds of Templars. According to reports, the number of inhabitants wasn’t as great as she imagined but it was still a force to consider. Cassandra and Cullen argued the entire evening about the best route of approach, though in the end they reached an agreement.

Once the Inquisition stopped for rest, Vatna began setting up protective wards around the camp. With Himnar’s help, she made them exceptionally strong. She would leave no weak spots for the evil forces, mortal or not, to slip inside. Not on this darkest night of the year.

“How it’s going?” Eir asked, having followed her to the east edge of the camp.

“I’m almost done,” she informed him and moved over to inscribe the last few sigils. She infused them with power that the hold-beast lended to her until the defense was as sturdy as it could be. “There. It’s ready.”

“Alright.” He nodded. “Now let’s finish celebrating the solstice.”

“I told you, there won’t be a feast nor gift-giving,” she said, shaking her head but also smiling. “From what I recall, you were fine with that. So don’t tell me now that you want a silverite dagger or something.”

“It’d be rather nice but if you don’t have one, I’ll settle for a hug.”

She froze for a moment. The memory of how she had celebrated the winter solstice with her kin last year resurfaced in her mind, the colours, scents, and sounds so vibrant as if they had not faded at all. She remembered the sensations of touch too, the hands held as she exchanged blessings and wishes with her close ones, countless embraces, forehead pressed against forehead, small gestures too difficult to describe with words. It was part of the celebrations too, an inherent part. During the Longest Night, the tribe always became more tightly-knit together. If there were any tears, and rifts, they ought to be repaired.

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his back. He did the same.

“I miss my Hold,” she whispered, her voice almost inaudible but she was sure he heard her.  _ Hold.  _ The word encompassed both the people and the place. She missed it all, more strongly with each passing day.

“Yeah. You never really left it before,” he replied in a soothing tone, lightly patting her on the back. “It’s bound to happen.”

“How is it to leave a Hold behind?” she asked. He knew the ache of parting ways well. He had to leave not one but two Holds.

“It’s hard. But you’re going to come back. You’ll be done with this mess, sooner or later.”

_ You can’t know that,  _ she thought. She quickly pushed it away, banishing the words into the surrounding darkness.

“May we survive the Longest Night in peace,” she hummed instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aval'var, so named the lover, called “our journey, yours and mine,”  
> ~ _Saga of Tyrdda Bright-Axe, Avvar-Mother_
> 
> “var” means “our”, as in:
> 
> **Var** Bellanaris - **Our** Eternity  
> Emma solas him **var** din'an - Arrogance became **our** end  
>  **Var** lath vir suledin - **Our** love will endure
> 
> “ava” and “ave” mean "journey" or "path", as in:
> 
> Mala taren ar **ava** s - Your mind **journeys**  
>  Ar **ave** l - a Dalish wagon, but also: a physical and a spiritual **path** , a **journey** with purpose  
> ir su ar **ave** l tu elvaral - but long **journeys** are made longer  
> lath ar **ava** l ena - and the **path** will emerge


	2. Soar Upward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vatna sees her sister again, though the circumstances of their reunion are far from how she imagined it.

Before entering home, Vatna stomped her feet a few times to clean the soles of her boots. If she brought dirt inside again, her mother would not only force her to sweep the floor but also wash all the laundry for a moon, if not more. When she made sure that her boots were clean enough, she opened the doors. Luckily, her sister was the only one present, and she was occupied with sewing buttons on her cloak.

“Hello, Neisti,” Vatna greeted her with a smile.

“Hello,” Hirka replied cheerfully, but she did not avert her gaze away from her work. 

Vatna took off her jacket and sat down by the hearth. She rolled up her sleeves to inspect the tattoos on the outer side of her forearms. They were still fresh but the surrounding skin wasn’t as sensitive as in the first couple of days. Vatna cleaned her hands in a bowl of water and started applying an ointment. It should help the tattoos heal faster. The fire was crackling quietly and its light danced on her skin, illuminating the pattern.

With her fingertips dipped in the soothing cream, she traced the dark shapes on her skin. The colour would dull in time and the blue undertones would reveal themselves, but at the moment the shade was as saturated as the wood ash paste used for the ink. The design consisted of nine straight lines. Together, they formed an intricate weave, a criss-cross of strings. There were three parallel lines travelling along the length of her forearm, to represent the past, the present, and the future. Another three strokes marked her arm at an oblique angle, starting on the “past”, running downward and crossing the middle line, to finally arrive at the “future”. These were meant to symbolize the Land of Dreams, the Waking World, and the Void. Some said that the Void mark could also be read as “conflict”. Lastly, there were three more lines, mirroring the previous ones, the upper two of which signified the gods and mortals. The lowermost slash meant something different. Vatna was told that the ninth line is supposed to stand for things that are unknown.

The pattern was called “The Lady’s Knot” or “The Web of Fate”. These tattoos marked her as a mage, a person whose fate was tied much more tightly to the Land of Dreams, entangled in the strands of fate. The paths of destiny could never be fully unraveled, but their course could be glimpsed through dreams.

Vatna didn’t notice that her sister abandoned her spot by the table and moved towards the fireplace. When she looked over her shoulder, she didn’t expect her to be standing so close.

“I wish I was a mage like you,” Hirka said with awe. She leaned her head, curiosity glistening in her eyes.

“Everything’s possible. There’s one fate for me, and one for you. They might be similar.” Vatna replied reassuringly, though she knew how her mother would react if she heard what her eldest daughter said. Selke would purse her lips in disapproval, though she would remain quiet. The chances for Hirka to manifest magic were slim, and growing slimmer each day. Children her age rarely displayed magical abilities, especially if there were no preceding signs. It wasn’t wise to shape Hirka’s expectations in that way.

“What did you learn today?” Hirka asked and sat next to her sister.

Vatna spread the rest of the ointment and rolled down her sleeves. What did she learn? She hesitated and turned to her sister so that they could see face to face.

She cradled her sister’s cheek. It was soft and warm. She felt something tugging at her heart. The short and sudden twinge quickly disappeared, but it made her blink. She looked deeper into Hirka’s eyes and the sensation of pulling inside her chest happened again. Then she felt a stinging pain in her left hand. It made her remember

She stopped caressing the girl and slapped her.

“Do not try to fool me,” she said in a low voice.

A patch of red skin, shaped like a hand, bloomed on the girl’s face. Her eyes filled with anger. Hazel coloured irises turned dark brown, so dark that the pupils became barely discernible. The fog embracing Vatna’s mind dispersed.

“How can you be so cruel?” The voice was so real, so full of hurt. It was the only voice that could deceive her so easily because she wanted to believe.

Vatna got up and put distance between them.

“Lose this shape,” she commanded.

“You don’t want to see your little sister? It’s been so long since you were home, and even longer since things were so pleasant.” The girl gestured around the house. “I picked this time and place just for you. She still loved you back then. She adored you, but you had to make a mistake and ruin everything. She could look up to you. She could love you again.”

“You don’t know anything,” Vatna shook her head. She glanced at her left hand. It was gleaming green, as the illusion had been partly broken. She regained control over her own presence. The surroundings remained under someone else’s rule.

The being posing as her sister stood up and clasped its hands over the chest, where a heart should be.

“You cherish the gods. Why wouldn’t you cherish me? I want to be like you.”

_ Be like me. _

It was a lie.

_ Voices wiser man ignores,  _ the Saga of the Avvar-Mother taught.

“No, _Envy_. You want to **_be_** me. Your admiration is twisted,” Vatna said through gritted teeth.

“Why don’t you help me then?” it asked innocently. “Bring me closer to the Waking, show me the world so I can understand?”

The god of Envy was inching closer to Vatna. The Dreamer stepped away.

_ None shall break my tribe apart. _

“You revelled in envy since the day you were born,” she said with conviction. The image of her home wavered. “Envy and nothing else. It’s too late for you to learn anything else. Gods can grow in many ways without devouring the mortals who approach them, but you know no other way.”

“Everything’s possible,” Envy echoed her words from earlier. “You could teach me. We could achieve great things together. Take the lead of the Inquisition, force the ones who advise you to submit.”

_ Not with demon-words that kill. _

“ _ You _ would lead the Inquisition.”

“If you got rid of the Lowlanders who control you, you would be able to do so much,” Envy continued, ignoring Vatna’s interruption. “Make the Inquisition heed your call. Use it to further your own goals. Restore the Avvar to their prime,” it said in excitement. “You could be more renowned than Morrighan’nan.  _ No -  _ than Tyrdda herself.”

_ Fear my fury's fiery rays. _

By calling on Tyrdda’s name, Envy sealed its fate. Vatna would be honoured to accomplish feats the same magnitude as the Avvar Mother, but Envy would never lead her to eternal glory. It offered only false advice. She visualized a fire staff in her mind - the gift from the Lady of the Skies to her lover. The weapon had been used to defeat the liars like Thelm Gold-Handed. The same bright axe that now belonged to Vatna from Two Falcon Hold, daughter of Einar and Selke. It would continue to serve its purpose, both in the Waking World and in the Land of Dreams: wherever the paths of fate would lead her.

The Lady-blessed weapon appeared in her hand.

“I told you. You won’t fool me.” Vatna grasped the haft securely.

“It’s unfair,” Envy said, imitating Hirka’s pouting voice and expression. “Tell me what I have to do to be like you

“Try something different,” Vatna replied. A parting gift to a corrupted god.

Behind her, the doors opened. She heard familiar footsteps.  _ Mother. Father.  _ Maybe she could steal just one look at them. A single glance.

Her hands, wrapped around the haft of Tyrdda’s axe, began to burn as if she grabbed a piece of hot iron straight from the forge.

_ No. _

She lurched towards the exit, pushing her way through with her eyes shut tight.

She found herself in a dark prison cell. The one she woke up in a few moons ago. Vatna looked over her shoulder and saw that the door blended into a wall made of grey stones and mortar. Envy did not follow her under her sister’s disguise, but it was certainly lurking somewhere in the shadows.

Dark, hazy figures filled the room. Two of them had a stronger, more tangible presence. The one in the centre resembled Vatna, and the silhouette nearest to her wore Cassandra’s guise.  _ Another memory,  _ Vatna realized.  _ Envy is still trying to study me. _

She looked around more carefully. Something was out of place. She felt her heart squeeze, as if she was missing someone dear, someone who was always close to her. A flash of gold appeared in front of her eyes for the length of a heartbeat. The scene was incomplete. There should be one more shape.

Cassandra’s shadow yanked the chains attached to the cuffs around the other Vatna’s wrists and began yelling at her. The mage walked past the illusions. She had to find a way out. If Envy wanted to stop her, it had to work harder.

“Why do you let the Seeker be in charge?” a voice boomed through the stone walls, coming from all directions at once. It was a male voice, though none Vatna could recognize. It was speaking in Common instead of her native tongue. “She captured you, disgraced you as a warrior. Take your revenge. Being a prisoner to a Lowlander? That demands retribution of blood.”

Vatna listened to the words, trying to learn what the lies were supposed to conceal. Envy was leading her astray. It hoped she would… forget. Forget about her goal. It couldn’t let her reach the destination.

She opened the prison door, wondering what kind of trick Envy would try next.

The next chamber was much larger. Soldiers, clad in metal plates bearing the Inquisition’s flaming eye and sword, stood in line. They were awaiting orders. The walls were covered with weapons on display, all polished so perfectly they could reflect every pore on her face. A messenger she recognized from the Hinterlands greeted her with a deep bow and announced:

“Our enemies have surrendered unconditionally. Neither Fereldan nor Orlesian army poses a threat to the Inquisition’s forces anymore.”

Vatna hit the figure with the blade on her staff. It disintegrated into dust. Another member of the Inquisition, looking like one of the Templars from Haven, Lysette, took its place. Vatna struck her without a pause, but this time the disguised Envy evaded her attack. She cursed under breath. When the demon posing as the young Templar noticed her reaction, it laughed mockingly.

“Do you want to show me how well you fight?” Envy asked in Lysette’s voice. “Do you want to take over the Templars? Use them to close the Breach and then destroy their vile Order, one by one. Crush them all like worms under your heel. I could help.” The woman’s body began contorting. Her voice deepened. When the change was over, there was another person standing in front of Vatna. “Would you like to start with the Commander?” it inquired, mimicking Cullen. “Repay him for insulting you. Punish him for capturing one of your tribesmen. Cut his throat with his own blade.”

Cullen’s imitation unsheathed his sword and presented it to the Avvar, one knee on the ground, head in a deep bow. Vatna’s eyes paused on the blade. Its edge looked as sharp as if it was just taken off the whetstone. 

_ Tyrdda Bright-Axe, fraught with fury, crystal axe-head stirred to blaze. _

She tore her gaze away from the image and surrounded herself with a barrier. The focus-crystal on her staff burst with flames. She coated the outside of her shield with white-hot fire and began pushing through the crowd. The apparitions fled away from her.

Only one didn’t.

She stopped before Envy masquerading as Jokka.

“Are you stupid?” the false Stone Seer hissed. She spoke in the familiar speech of the Mountains, the one Vatna drank with her mother’s milk, but her words tasted like poison. The lower part of the woman’s face, not obscured by the augur’s mask, twisted in disgust. “The Lowlanders are our enemies. We should reclaim what was ours. Push back the Alamarri borders, as they did with ours. Everything west of the Lake of Tears belonged to the Avvar. Now, we ought to seek retribution. We’ll rule both the Mountains and the Valley.”

Vatna conjured a fireball and threw it at fake Jokka. The woman was set ablaze but she did not stop talking.

“That’s what becomes of a child from a southern mother,” she laughed while her skin melted. “Weak, impulsive, foolish. You betrayed your own blood. You’re a traitor to your kin. The gods have turned away from you.”

Something tugged on Vatna’s heart. It felt as if there was a rope tied around the center of her chest. She had to… find the other end.

“That’s a lie. You’re lying,” Vatna said loudly, to give her words more substance. “I didn’t betray my people. I didn’t lose the gods’ favour.

“What a stupid child you are,” Envy mimicked Jokka’s laughter again. “You think you’re so special. It’s your fault that my sister died.”

Vatna didn’t allow herself to flinch. The second fireball reduced Envy’s disguise into cinders.

_ Don’t believe anything it says,  _ she reminded herself. She spat on the ground to get rid of the awful taste on her tongue. Jokka… Jokka didn’t love her but there was no bad blood between them. Freyja gave her life to protect the Hold from the plague of darkness. She died an honourable death. She found the Lady’s light. That was the truth.

Vatna pressed on. The other end of the hall was blocked off by a wall of green fire, so she investigated one of the side rooms first.

It resembled Josephine’s office. There was a fireplace, a chair, a desk, and a large chest, but the pieces of furniture were scattered around, sticking to the walls and the ceiling, as if someone rattled the contents of the room and forced them to stay in this unnatural disarray. She picked up one of the letters from the wall. It bore the Templar crest on the seal.

The signature belonged to Lucius Corin. Lord Seeker. Envy’s prey.

She burned the letter and walked up to the door. She pressed the handle. Didn’t she leave the door open? She pushed again. It didn’t budge.

Another one of Envy’s tricks. She prepared a spell to break it down.

“Wait,” she heard a whisper behind her back.

She turned around on her heels and assumed a defensive stance. A male figure appeared in the middle of the room out of thin air. His face was obscured by a wide-brimmed hat. She judged his build and noted a long-limbed and lean body. He was dressed in a plain green shirt and brown pants. Twin daggers hung from his belt. Quite a normal view, except he was standing on the ceiling. 

Who else might walk this part of the Land of Dreams? Those who could were few, and it didn’t seem likely that Envy managed to trap another Dreamer in its snares. _ This must be a god. _

“Envy is hurting you,” the stranger said, his voice that of a young man. “Rumours and memories, it roams everywhere. I want to help. You, not Envy.” He jumped down from the ceiling and landed on the worn-out carpet.

“How do you call yourself?” she asked. He wasn’t Envy, she could sense as much, but it didn’t mean he was her ally yet. To judge his nature, she had to continue to look, listen, and learn.

“I’m Cole,” he replied. A pair of blue eyes peeked from underneath the hat. 

“I’m Vatna,” she said, relaxing her stance a little. “Do you know where we are?”

She blinked and the god vanished, only to reappear a few feet away, perched on top of the desk like a bird.

“We’re inside you. Or I am. You’re always inside you, that didn’t change,” he blurted, his words quick like a waterfall.

“True.” She nodded and took another look at the surroundings. “Envy has set a trap for me. So how did  _ you _ get here?”

The question made him pause for a moment.

“I... followed a trail of gold and green.” He tilted his head as if he was unsure. She noticed strands of pale blond hair slipping from underneath his hat. “Envy hurt you,  _ is  _ hurting you. I tried to help. Then I was here, in the hearing. It’s - it’s not usually like this.”

“It’s not,” Vatna agreed. “Not unless you’re pulled in. Or fall. I guess you fell.”

“I - You understand,” he stammered. His eyes widened in shock.

“I hope I do.” She sent him a weak smile. “Why were you in Therinfal, Cole? With the Templars?”

“I was watching. I watch. Envy arrived. It twisted the commanders, forced their fury and their fight,” he explained eagerly.

“What did he do to them?”

“They’re red inside.”

“They were fed red lyrium?” she asked to make sure. Cole’s hat bobbled when he confirmed her words with an energetic nod. “Where did it come from?”

“Somewhere deep, somewhere dark, somewhere deadly. Underneath what’s under. Once it’s out and then in, it can grow.”

“I’ll… have to think about that. But first, I have to get out of here. I guess you do too.”

“You can’t go out, not from here. It’s your head and you’re frozen. Envy is trying to take your face.”

_ Frozen.  _ She was trapped in her own mind, with her memories being warped by Envy. She grasped the staff tighter. The metal haft was warm to touch.

“Yes. Thoughts are fast. Outside, a blade is still falling, hanging in the air like a sunset above the horizon.” Cole jumped off the table.

“It won’t stall forever,” Vatna remarked.

“You should run. Away from Envy. Further from the frost, where it’s not freezing anymore. The cold will try to follow but it can’t catch you if you’re fast.”

“I need to… get closer to the sky,” the Avvar said quietly. There was a warm tightness in her chest, where her end of the rope was tethered.  _ I need to find Himnar,  _ she realized, placing her palm on her breastbone.

“Golden link glistens, brighter when nearer, dimmer when further, always there. Unbreakable, but what if it breaks?” Cole hummed. His voice and face were expressionless, like a person in a deep trance.

Vatna walked up to him. The ways of the gods were different. She was used to omens of sight, like the patterns painted by birds in the sky, not word puzzles.

“What else do you see?” she prompted as she tried to memorize what he said.

“Green glow under the glove, colour of empty dreams, always there. Mazes, riddles, paths so twisted. Unsolvable, but what if it's solved?”

She repeated the words in her mind.  _ Will I ever solve it?  _ She looked down at the Anchor. Each of her attempts to unravel its mysteries in the past proved to be futile.

The god blinked a few times, as if someone suddenly awakened him.

“Let’s go,” he said. “Follow the golden thread. It has to be shining, shimmering. Shhh. It has to be louder.”

“Let’s go,” Vatna agreed.

They returned to the main hall. She focused all her will and imagined a waterfall pouring down from the ceiling. With some mental effort, she extinguished the wall of fire. They could pass safely.

“That parasite can’t help you!” Envy screamed in fury. “I will become you, Dreamer!”

Vatna turned a deaf ear to Envy’s threats. She and Cole moved further down the fortress created by the demon. The chambers they passed were filled with shadows from her mind, twisted by feelings of envy. The people she met on her journey were either answering to every whim of her demonic twin, or locked behind bars for disobedience. These were fresh memories, lying closer to the surface of her mind. Easier to pull outside in a hurry. Envy was growing impatient.

Her impostor struck Mother Giselle in the face. The woman stumbled at the impact but kept her back straight.

“Shut your preaching mouth, you Lowland whore,” the other Vatna barked.

“I demand justice,” Giselle said.

“You’ll get it, like all the fools who follow Andraste. Take her to the gallows.” The words were followed by another outburst of violence, and then the vision vanished.

The images changed in rapid succession as Vatna and Cole ran through the halls. She only noticed glimpses of them. Josephine being dragged away from her office. Cassandra getting thrown into a cell. Varric fighting off the guards. Harding. Dennet. Sera. Blackwall. Iron Bull. Minaeve. Nissa. One by one, devoured by Envy.

“There!” Cole pointed to a staircase in the distance.

“You won’t escape me!” Envy screeched.

Vatna ran up the stairs, with Cole close behind her.

They found themselves in a city. It was burning. People were screaming. Blood was being spilled, enough to fill a great lake. Soldiers under banners Vatna couldn’t recognize were fighting against the unending waves of corrupted gods. Soon, they would be swallowed by the hordes. Was this the chaos Corypheus planned to unleash on the world?

Vatna pictured a river flushing away all the obstacles from her path. The energies surrounding her answered to the bidding. It was getting easier to manipulate the scenery.  _ A sign we’re going in the right direction. _

She ran up another flight of stairs. It looked like Envy had already envisioned another decoy.

“You know, if you want to get rid of all Lowlanders, you should start with Orlais,” said Eir. He was sitting on a chair, sharpening his shortsword. “Val Royeaux looked pretty promising.”

“Is that so, Envy?”

“Yes. Slitting the empress’ throat - wouldn’t that be beautiful?” The man smiled. “They’d sing songs about you till the end of times. Vatna, the Avvar Queen who conquered Orlais, Ferelden, then the Free Marches, Antiva, Rivain, Anderfels, Nevarra. Your final triumph - Tevinter. I’d help you fool Corypheus into thinking you’re on his side, keep your people safe, and when the time comes, you’d tear his dead heart out of his chest and throw his bones into the Void. The world would be yours.”

“You learned so little about me, Envy, despite your efforts,” Vatna shook her head. She ran past the poor imitation of the Avvar pathfinder.

She was close, she could feel it. The golden link shone brighter and brighter with each step. When she swerved by a statue coated in black ashes, Cole appeared as if he materialized from thin air.

“Envy is desperate. It revealed too much,” he said. “Much too much, and yet you didn’t sway. It will try once more.”

“And it will fail,” Vatna assured him.

She ran as if the wind carried her. The last push to reach the summit. She wasn’t tired. She had to get closer to the sky.

Someone was waiting on top of the stairs.

_ Sky Watcher!  _ Her mind shouted in glee before her consciousness caught up.

The man opened his mouth.

_ Dream-words lie, their thirst unslaking. _

Flames erupted from Vatna’s staff. The blaze engulfed the deceit created by Envy. For a moment, the sky turned red. A cloud of smoke covered the familiar figure. Once it lifted off, the Sky Watcher was no more. A shadow of his apprentice emerged from underneath.

“If you thought I’d let you use his voice for even one breath, you were mistaken,” Vatna declared. “It’s over.”

“No, it isn’t!” the god of Envy shrieked. “We’ll start again! And again! I will have your shape!”

“It’s frightened of you,” Cole remarked.

“Good,” Vatna replied and punched Envy in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Envy, like fire, soars upward._
> 
> ~Titus Livius, _Books from the Founding of the City_

**Author's Note:**

> The next entry in the series jumps further in the timeline. It focuses on how Vatna coped with the loss of her arm, so proceed with caution.


End file.
